


Guiding Light

by ShariDeschain



Series: Dick and Dami Week 2019 [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: DickandDamiweek2019, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 18:39:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShariDeschain/pseuds/ShariDeschain
Summary: Home is not with Talia anymore, and it’s never really been with Ra’s, and now Gotham is another place to leave behind, and Father just a wasted chance.#DickAndDamiWeek2019 Day 6 - Rain





	Guiding Light

**Author's Note:**

> The setting is completely different but I had [this lovely art](http://laquilasse.tumblr.com/post/167610616310/laquilasse-camsthisky-sent-me-a-beautiful-photo) made in @laquilasse in mind the whole time when writing this (and for some reason I remembered the umbrella to be blue, wtf.)

The rain feels nice on the face, if only for the feeling of cold cleanliness that every drop leaves behind itself, as it slips from his cheeks to his neck to dampen the starched collar of his white shirt. Pennyworth is not going to be happy about this particular suit getting ruined.

_“It belonged to your father”_ , the old man had said, and Damian had wondered if the butler had really expected him to be thankful for those hand-me-down clothes.

He had preferred not to comment, and had put them on in silence, vaguely annoyed that they were a little too big for him, even though the butler had assured him that his father was almost the same age as Damian when he first wore them. 

Only now, in front of his own father’s gravestone, Damian realizes that Bruce Wayne must have worn that suit to his parents' funeral.

“How fitting”, he says to himself, and the steady sound of the pouring rain drown his voice into a whisper.

Mother could never tell him much about Thomas and Martha Wayne. All of her intel had been gathered from common sources of information like newspapers and special events organized in their commemoration. She never cared much about them, or at least not enough to investigate them further than that.

Damian supposes he could ask Pennyworth about it. One thing all old men have in common is that they like to talk about the past, remembering the good old days. What Damian had wanted, of course, had been for Bruce to tell him everything about their legacy, but he supposes it was an idle wish anyway: Father hadn’t looked like the kind of men that liked that sort of stuff. 

The smell of wet grass is almost overwhelming where he’s standing, to the point of almost being able to totally cover up the smell of mud and dirt so typical of a recently closed grave. Damian inhales it in slow, deep breaths that also help him in clearing his mind crowded with conflicting feelings.

He doesn’t mind being wet, not as much as the idea of being completely alone. Home is not with Talia anymore, and it’s never really been with Ra’s, and now Gotham is another place to leave behind, and Father just a wasted chance.

Damian should be more upset about it, he knows. But if he has to be honest with himself - and this looks like just the right time and place for such a thing - then he has to admit he hadn’t liked Father that much to begin with. He had been an impressive warrior, just like Mother had always said, but of everything else, Damian had found him lacking. 

He kicks the dirt with the shiny point of his new, expensive pair of italian leather shoes, and he watches as a long, rosy earthworm twists underneath the clump that has just been overturned over its head, leaving it exposed to the rain and the danger of the world above. Earthworms have neither eyes nor ears, they do not breathe through lungs nor gills, and they can only live in the dark. They can, however, regenerate themselves when they get hurt. Damian supposes there are worse fates than that.

He keeps staring at the earthworm and wonders where he should go next, how long can he survives on the run before Grandfather catches him. Damian raises his hands in front of his eyes and stares at them carefully, trying to imagine what will happen to his soul once Ra's will take possession of his body. Was it weird for Grandfather to use hands that were not his own? Seeing through eyes that belonged to someone else? Speak with a voice of a stranger?

Damian tries to imagine his own body raising from the waters of the Lazarus pit, old, familiar scars erased to make his body a blank canvas on which to paint another life, one that Damian would not share. He shivers and promptly blames the freezy rain for it. It would be a honor to serve the Demon Head. It’s his duty, the reason he was born.

He’s so lost in his thoughts, it takes him a moment to register the new sound of the rain, the padded beat that replaces the constant drumming. There’s a blue shadow over his head, and Damian raises his glaze to find Grayson looking down at him and holding a blue umbrella over him. The color momentarily leaves Damian speechless: he was convinced that only black umbrellas were allowed at funerals.

“You’re soaked”, Grayson comments. “You’ll get pneumonia if you don’t get out of the rain.”

“I don't get sick”, Damian retorts contemptuously.

“Alfred will be thrilled to hear that”, Grayson answers. “He’s always complaining about our immunitary system and and how we insist in living our lives like we have a good one.”

“My immune system is flawless”, Damian answers after a beat. He doesn’t even know why they’re talking about it or why he should care about their opinion on it, but he wants to make things clear anyway.

Dick nods with the utmost seriousness, then he shrugs under the pouring rain. 

“Well, my isn’t”, he replies, and only then does Damian notice that the man is holding the umbrella in front of him, so that it would cover Damian but not himself. It looks like a very stupid thing to do. “So how about we go back to the house? Alfred is making tea and I know for a fact that, hidden somewhere in the kitchen, there is a batch of cookies that has just come out of the oven. I could definitely eat something.”

Damian could eat too. He throws a quick look at the mansion behind them. It doesn’t look welcoming at all, but it will be warmer than out here. Maybe he'll be able to steal some of those cookies for the long, hard journey ahead of him.

He lets Grayson lead the way, and doesn't comment when the man keeps holding the umbrella over his head to protect him from the rain. If he's stupid enough to be proud of such a foolish gesture, it's not Damian’s business. 

“We can’t stay here for long”, Dick says, while they make their way to the house. “I wanted to stay long enough for the funeral and to gather a few things. You’re welcome to take a look around if you want to take something with you. Bruce had a nice collection of dagger in his study, I think you’ll like it.”

At first Damian registers the words without really understanding them, then he blinks and stops in his tracks. The umbrella stops with him.

“We?”, he repeats, looking up at the man next to him.

“Yeah”, Grayson answers and he smiles sadly at Damian’s confused expression, completely misinterpreting it. “I know this is your home and you’d like to stay here but the cave is compromised, so we need to move everything. It’s not going to be permanent, I promise you that, but for the time being we’re going to stay in a new place. I already have a few options in mind.”

Damian doesn’t want to ask, but he needs to be sure.

“Am I coming with you?”

Dick looks as surprised as Damian feels, when he looks down at him.

“Well, yes”, he answers with half a smile. “I’m not leaving you here alone in the Manor, that’s for certain. Social services would have my arse if I tried. And it's been hard enough to convince Alfred to move, if it hadn't been for you I don’t think he would’ve agreed at all, he was ready to build a fort in the kitchen, I swear.”

Once again the stream of words coming from Grayson’s mouth leaves Damian disconcerted, and to avoid showing his surprise he looks away and starts walking towards his father’s house. Again, the umbrella follows him.

“Okay”, he feels compelled to say anyway, just to have the last word on the man and pretend like he had always known that he was going to stay here in Gotham, because of course he is: this is where his father had wanted him to be, where his mission has been interrupted, only for Damian to take it in his hands and make it his own. 

And Grayson could prove to be of some use too, who knows.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the #DickAndDamiWeek2019 on tumblr.[Day 6 - Rain](https://unavenged-robin.tumblr.com/post/184158422373/day-6-rain-na-the-setting-is-completely)


End file.
